


Lily's Wrath

by brinkleytown



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinkleytown/pseuds/brinkleytown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SWW Prompt #2: Wrath</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lily's Wrath

He walked into the Gryffindor common room two weeks after making the biggest mistake of his short life.

“Piss off, Black,” Lily snapped before quickly turning her head back to face the thin, scarred teenager seated across from her at a low table. Her long fiery locks tickled a bishop as she leaned over the checkered game board placed between them. The chessman let out an undignified giggle and squeak in response.

Sirius, in all honesty, had no intentions of bothering Lily or her companion at the time. The common room was just an unavoidable part of the route to his dormitory and then a long sleep behind the curtains of his four-poster bed. He attempted to ignore her angry tone and the puzzled and annoyed looks coming from oblivious first years and studious fifth years, reviewing for their O.W.L.s, and walked on.

But for a witch who was clearly displeased with merely seeing his visage, Lily was awful intent on getting his attention. “You’re a git, you know,” she continued. “A bloody wanker and a prick; an arsehole and lowlife scum.” At this point, Sirius would not have registered much shock if actual toxins had spurted forth heretofore undiscovered glands in her gums to accompany the venomous words.

Meanwhile, Remus was focused on the chess game, as if he could not hear a thing his new bosom pal was saying about his best mate. Former best mate, Sirius mentally corrected. And to think that he had actually planned to go through with it after that moon. He had bought a bloody book for Remus, in commemoration for what had been sure to be a momentous and joyous occasion.

It was inevitable, even now that Sirius, James, and Peter had managed the animagus transformation and ran with the wolf on those nights, that Remus would spend at least a day or two in the hospital wing recovering from the events of the full. But a few days before the moon turned whole, Sirius had prepared, spending hours to get things just right. The very moment that the overcautious school healer pronounced the werewolf free to leave her sight, Sirius had planned to steal him away.

They would have snuck out to Hogsmeade—just the two of them, together—bought all the sweets they could eat, and then persuaded the barmy old bartender at the Hog’s Head to sell them a bottle of firewhiskey. Once Sirius had consumed just enough liquor to lower any pesky remaining inhibitions, but not so much that he could not remember and appreciate every next moment, he planned to lean over, run a thumb across that maddeningly attractive scar on Remus’ right cheek, and kiss the bastard until they were both gasping for breath.

But nothing went as planned. No Hogsmeade. No firewhiskey. And most certainly no kiss.

Instead, Sirius proved the veracity of his mother’s last words to him as he fled his childhood home. He was indeed a “good-for-nothing, traitorous fuck-up”—and, admittedly, “muggle-loving scum” but there was hardly anything wrong with that.

Remus had been in the hospital wing for nearly a fortnight by the time he was released. Apparently the wolf did not take kindly to being deprived of a delicious—greasy, Sirius added mentally—meal and had turned to his own flesh as a replacement.

“I swear to Merlin, if you even look at him again I’ll gouge your eyes out with my wand,” Lily threatened, catching him glancing at Remus’ still-bandaged nose. Sirius had learned through Peter—because James (possibly in solidarity with the love of his life, but also because he was a proper mate) was also not speaking with him—that a good half-inch chunk of flesh was completely missing from its tip. Madam Pomfrey had supposedly ordered a regrowth tonic from the local apothecary and could have it “right as rain” by Thursday, but still, Sirius ached.

Instead of giving to Moony sweets, books, alcohol, and himself, he’d taken so much away. Trust, friendship… even his sodding nose—it was all gone in an instant. After one stupid conversation. One thoughtless joke. The final prank of one very lonely marauder.

“BLACK!” she raged, standing up to her full height. Even though Lily Evans barely reached his chin, Sirius felt dwarfed by her presence. “If you know what’s good for you,” she continued, sugary sweet vocals now covering words of wrath. “You’ll leave him be. He doesn’t need you. He doesn’t want you. ‘Friends’ don’t use each other as murder weapons. You’re the monster.”

Remus’ only response was greater tension in his shoulders.

Sirius nodded silently before climbing the spiral staircase.


End file.
